Black Sheep, White Armor: Book Two
by Cateia
Summary: Part 2 of Only Just A Dream. The continued story of Sebastian Vael and Starkhaven. The Vael family is dead and Sebastian must choose. A pretty apostate named Aspasia Hawke complicates things. Meanwhile, Starkhaven struggles under Johane Harimann's puppet rule. Can Sebastian's supporters evade her wrath long enough to put the true heir on the throne?
1. Prologue

**_Black Sheep, White Armor: Book Two_**

**_A Dragon Age Fan Fiction_**

**_Author: Cateia_**

**_Rating: Mature (language, violence, sexual situations)_**

_**If you've read Black Sheep, White Armor: Book One, feel free to skip directly to first chapter, called The Rider. This Prologue is a summary for newcomers, since the events of Book One create a bit of an AU.**_

_**I thank you in advance for reading this, and I always welcome feedback. I, like many fanfic writers, actually live on comments, kudos, favorites, follows, and bookmarks. They're delicious with ketchup. :-)**_

**_DISCLAIMER: Hail BioWare. It's their world, I'm just playing in it. However, this story has a wide cast of original characters. If it's not in the games, the codices, or the wikis, it's mine. _**

* * *

**_Summary:_**

**_The continued story of Sebastian Vael and Starkhaven. He's loved and lost, been a disgrace and found redemption. But will the Maker's next set of challenges be too much for the Exiled Prince to overcome?_**

**_As he struggles to come to terms with the loss of his entire family, Sebastian must decide whether to give up the peaceful Chantry life that has saved him or leave it behind to take his place as the rightful Prince of Starkhaven. Just when the decision seems clear, he meets a woman named Aspasia Hawke. Sebastian finds himself questioning his decisions, values, even his faith as he follows the apostate around Kirkwall. Before long, the Prince is head-over-heels for Hawke but there's a problem; she's already spoken for. Sort of. Can Sebastian bear to let love slip through his fingers again?_**

**_Meanwhile, the citizens of Starkhaven struggle to prosper under the puppet regime installed by Johane Harimann. Can the few supporters of the Exiled Prince evade the deranged blood mage's wrath long enough to raise an army for the rightful Vael? Will Sebastian even want the crown so many have died for?_**

* * *

The daily routine of Brotherhood had grown to be a comfort to Sebastian Vael. Every day, he rose at dawn and recited his morning prayers. Then he practiced archery for an hour before breaking his fast. After eating, Sebastian then either worked in the archive room or heard confessions until lunch. The rest of the day was filled with a mix of various Chantry duties—often physical tasks the Sisters and Mothers were too weak to perform—and culminated in evening vespers. A bath, light meditation, and personal prayers concluded his day. It was simple, quiet, and utterly boring, but it had successfully stamped out each and every one of Sebastian's vices. He would much rather work on his calligraphy than wake up in a rum-induced haze, next to a strange lass he couldn't remember bedding the night before. It was cheaper, too, in more ways than one.

Though he hadn't been in Kirkwall long, Sebastian had quickly become known as one of Grand Cleric Elthina's most devout clergy members. He was, by all appearances, a knight in gleaming white armor to the Kirkwall faithful; a shining representative of the Maker's grace.

In contrast, anyone from Starkhaven would have been hard-pressed to recognize this bright, calm young man as the black sheep of the Vael line, a hard-drinking, womanizing hellion that got exiled to Val Royeaux after being accused of murdering his girlfriend, a servant named Colleen MacDougal.

The transformation was a long time in the making, and Denerim's Grand Cleric would be outraged that he'd been allowed to take his vows at all. Sebastian had, after all, made a point of sneaking out regularly to visit the tavern _and_ brothel. But his time in Denerim hadn't been spent solely on making a farce of his protective Chantry position; he'd become best friends with a young Templar recruit named Alistair, won the Ferelden Archery Tournament twice, and nearly got recruited into the storied Grey Wardens.

Just when life in Denerim seemed to be perfect in Sebastian's view, his past came back to haunt him. The man responsible for his girlfriend's death—Robbie MacSwain—showed up in Denerim. Feeling it was either kill or be killed by the deranged sociopath, Sebastian challenged Robbie to a duel behind the Gnawed Noble tavern. Sebastian won, escaping the scene with the dead man's blood all over him. Sebastian was reassigned to Kirkwall after it was discovered that MacSwain was a wanted man in several Ferelden towns.

Sebastian often wondered what was going on in his homeland, if anybody there even remembered he existed. Sebastian missed his siblings—Corbinian, Gavin, Aileen, and Hannah—and wondered how big Corbinian's three children were getting. He'd also heard recently that Gavin's wife was pregnant and Aileen was to be married. There was a woman who frequented the Chantry that looked strikingly similar to his mother, Andra, and every time he caught her eye it made his heart ache.

Not that Sebastian hadn't heard _anything_ of what was going on back home, of course. He heard bits and pieces—random bits of gossip, really—about how members of the nobility were causing a fair amount of trouble for his father. Sebastian also knew that Prince Aidan Vael was fighting a seemingly hopeless battle trying to keep them happy. What he _didn't_ know was that the trouble was headed up first by Lord Renly Harimann, then by his widow, Johane—Kirkwall nobility. Sebastian certainly didn't know the dark secrets that tied the Harimanns and Vaels together in a tragic twist of fate, and how he was at the center of it all.

But for all he missed Starkhaven and his family, Sebastian knew that his place was in the Chantry. Without any friends in Kirkwall to enable his self-destructive behavior, Sebastian hit rock bottom shortly after arriving and felt that the only way to truly heal was to leave his life in the Maker's hands. Without the Maker's guidance, he would never have been able to give up drinking or womanizing. And so, after just a few months in Kirkwall, Sebastian eagerly took his vows of Brotherhood, sponsored by the Seeker assigned to protect him—Richard Kendrick.

Two weeks later, the Starkhaven Circle mysteriously burned to the ground, with strong evidence that the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander had fallen victim to blood magic. Fearing for his family's safety, Aidan Vael ordered his family to hunker down inside the palace, placing his faith in the ability of a scant 30 Guardsmen to protect the royal family.

A week after the Circle Tower fire, on the 23rd day of Solace in 9:31 Dragon, the Vaels were rounded up in the wee hours of the morning and murdered in a shocking coup orchestrated by Johane Harimann. She put Sebastian's cousin Goran—a stuttering, slow-minded puppet—on the throne of Starkhaven.

Ryon MacAllister, Captain of the Starkhaven Royal Guard and Aidan Vael's personal bodyguard, was given one final command before the Prince perished: ride to Kirkwall, seek out Sebastian, and inform him of what has happened. He has been riding for three days without rest, only stopping to eat and change horses. The only thing standing between Ryon and Kirkwall now are the formidable Vimmark Mountains.


	2. The Rider

**_Chapter One: The Rider_**

**_A thankless task brings the former Captain of the Starkhaven Royal Guard to Kirkwall._**

* * *

**_Sundermount, 26_****_th_****_ of Solace, 9:31 Dragon…_**

A pair of Dalish hunters scrambled to hide themselves at the sound of approaching hooves. The elves looked at each other as they strained their ears, trying to ascertain the number of riders. Fenarel furrowed his brows; something wasn't right. _Only one rider? Why would he come this way?_ His gut instinct told him that it would be best to stop the rider, to tell him to go around the Dalish camp, lest he be attacked by the dozen other hunters of the Sabrae clan. He mouthed to his partner, Junar, that he intended to intercept this potential intruder and wanted the younger elf to hide, to shoot his bow at the first sign of trouble.

Junar, nodding his understanding, climbed the tree he was hiding behind. Bow in hand, he wedged himself in at the point where the trunk forked into three thick limbs, bow in hand.

Fenarel stepped out and stood in the path as the rider rounded a blind corner, pulling his bow from its strap, stringing it, and nocking an arrow. _Just in case._

The rider, a man in semi-ceremonial armor with accents of blue and a gold _lion rampant _on the chest, pulled up on his steed's reins. The horse skidded to a halt on the gravelly path, the dust cloud briefly swirling up around Fenarel. The panting of the winded mount was the only sound breaking the stillness as the dust settled once more.

"This is Dalish territory, _shemlen_," Fenarel barked as he raised his bow. "Explain yourself."

_Shit. Of course I had to run into a Dalish clan, _the man thought_. Take it easy, be polite. They should let a single man pass through if they realize I'm not hostile._

Fenarel watched as the man pulled off his helm. He had black hair, brown eyes, and his face was streaked with dirt and sweat. The circles under his eyes indicated that he must not have slept in days. If the rider were a younger man, Fenarel would have guessed that he was a messenger._Not this one. He…looks important. Authoritative. How is it that he rides alone?_

At last, the man spoke. "I mean you no harm, elf." His voice was rich with an accent that Fenarel had never heard before. "I simply mean to bring a very urgent message to Kirkwall as quickly as possible. It's a matter of the utmost importance. Folks I talked to in Wildervale said this was the shortest way through the Vimmarks. If you'd kindly tell me another path, I'll turn around and go that way." His tired expression and polite words bore all the marks of a man on a thankless mission.

Fenarel looked at him for several long moments. It was clear the man was no threat. He lowered his bow, easing up on the string. Fenarel glanced up at the tree and nodded towards Junar, who started to descend. "No need to double back, _shemlen_. I'll take you through the camp myself. You'd easily lose a day trying to find another way around. Junar, run back down the path—make sure he's truly alone." Junar trotted off, bow at the ready. He took a narrow, mostly-hidden path that gave him a way to sneak up the mountain path and check without sacrificing his safety.

While they waited for the elven hunter to return, the man dismounted and pulled off a glove, extending his hand. Fenarel hesitated, but eventually took the man's extended hand, shaking briefly before retracting his hand as though he'd been burned. "Thank you. My name is Ryon," he said, throat dry. He grabbed the water skin on his hip and took a long pull, wiping his mouth afterward. "I am—_was_—the Captain of Starkhaven's Royal Guard. Our Prince and most of his family have been murdered, and I must notify his only living child." Ryon took another drink from his skin before offering it to the elf.

Fenarel waved off Ryon's gesture and folded his lithe arms, looking at Ryon quizzically. "Why would your Prince exile one of his own children?"

Ryon let out a long breath and scratched at the back of his head as he looked up at the blazing sun, now nearly overhead. _Nearly midday. I've got to pick up the pace._ "That, my friend, is a long story." He looked into his horse's eyes, running a hand along its jaw to calm it. "I'll lead my mount through the camp, if that would help ease your clan at all."

"It would." Fenarel couldn't hide his surprise at Ryon's offer. _Keeper Marethari always says that there are some among the shemlen who are not our enemies. Perhaps Ryon is one._

Ryon gave a thin smile as he unhooked the toggle of his saddlebag. "I have gold, if that—"

"We require no toll for your passage, Ryon," Fenarel said, returning Ryon's smile. Just then, he spotted Junar. The younger hunter gave a hand signal to indicate Ryon had indeed ridden alone. "Come now, we should hurry. I can't leave Junar alone out here for long."

Ryon nodded and walked his horse alongside Fenarel down Sundermount. They passed scattered, lichen-covered ruins as the dirt path zigzagged its way down the mountain. Before long, the pair had reached the Dalish camp itself. Ryon noticed that they had several aravels—but nothing to pull them with—and wondered how they had even gotten here. An elderly female, whom Ryon assumed was the leader, gave him a wizened look as he passed. _It's like she knew I was coming. Strange. _Before long, they had reached the other side of the camp and Fenarel stopped.

"Good luck to you, Ryon," Fenarel said with a slight bow. Before turning and starting the journey back he said, "Kirkwall is a dangerous place, now more than ever with all the Ferelden Blight refugees flooding the streets."

"So I've heard," Ryon muttered as he swung himself up into the saddle, clicking his tongue and tugging on the reins to get the horse moving again. He looked up at the sky; it was just past mid-day. He leaned forward and whispered a _sorry, girl _before spurring the mare into a gallop, the City of Chains in plain sight.

**_Kirkwall Chantry, two hours later…_**

Sister Petrice descended from the upper level of the Kirkwall Chantry, seeking Sebastian Vael. She spotted him speaking with a young woman near the statue of Andraste and cringed. It called to mind all the horrid things she'd learned from her correspondence with the sisters in Denerim about the young man's past. As she approached, much to her relief, Petrice found that Vael wasn't talking to the woman at all—merely the swaddled baby in her arms. She stopped short of the young man, leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs as she waited for him.

"May the Maker's Light shine upon you, wee one," Sebastian whispered. "He has much planned for you." He gently stroked the baby's wisp of black hair and smiled warmly.

"Thank you, Brother Sebastian," the young lady said, blushing. "The healer in Darktown said prayer wouldn't do him any good, but I think he's wrong. I think the Maker does have a plan for Baxter. I'll…see you around? Down at The Hanged Man, perhaps?" She batted her eyelashes at the handsome young Brother.

"I can always be found _here_, milady," Sebastian replied graciously, not succumbing to the woman's attempt to flirt with him. He led her past Sister Petrice, down the stairs to the main floor, stopping near a stone pillar. He gently nodded, a subtle gesture to indicate that the conversation was over. The woman, trying to mask her disappointment, gave Sebastian an awkward smile as she left, picking up her pace as she approached the double doors and slipped through. As he watched the pretty woman leave, Sebastian shook his head. _There will always be a temptress lying in wait, won't there? Every day it's a struggle, but I know You would not place these challenges before me if You didn't think I could handle them, Maker._

_Nice act. You'll probably slink out of here after dark and meet up with that trollop. For all anyone knows, you're probably that child's father. Disgusting, _Petrice thought as she pushed away from the wall and walked out onto the raised platform, leaning over the railing. "Brother Sebastian," Petrice barked, her voice cold. "The Grand Cleric wishes to see you in her office. Now!" As the people gathered in the lowest level of the Chantry all looked at the young man and started to whisper, Petrice couldn't help but feel a sense of smug satisfaction. _We'll see who the Grand Cleric's favorite is now, you spoiled brat._

"Very well," Sebastian replied calmly. "Thank you, Sister Petrice." He walked past the Kirkwallers, trying to block out their whispers, but he couldn't.

"_I heard the Grand Cleric in Denerim refused to administer his vows."_

_"Yeah? I heard he's the son of royalty."_

_"He must have been a truly awful kid to get sent away."_

_"Rumor has it he's being protected by the Divine herself—ever notice he's always being followed by a man in black armor?"_

He paused at the base of the stairs, frustrated and more than a little sad that some people couldn't see him for the person he had become._Despite all I've done to change, I'll never truly escape my past, _he thought. Letting out a sigh, the Prince climbed the three flights of stairs to Elthina's office. He knocked, waiting for the muffled _Come_ before he dared open the door.

"You called for me, Grand Cleric?" Sebastian asked as he closed the door behind him and turned to face Elthina.

The elderly lady averted her dove-grey eyes. "Yes, Sebastian. You have a visitor," she said with an unusual stiffness, gesturing towards a very stoic man who stood by the fireplace.

Sebastian couldn't keep his jaw from dropping. "Captain Ryon? What are you doing here?"

The longtime bodyguard of Prince Aidan Vael said nothing, but his red-rimmed eyes and wearied expression spoke volumes. The normally clean-cut Captain was dirty and sweaty, obviously having just arrived in the city. He gripped a thick letter in his hand tightly and thrust it towards Sebastian.

Sebastian took the paper and examined the thick wax seal. _Father's signet._

"Sebastian, perhaps you should have a seat. That looks like a long letter," Elthina said, trying to be helpful. She cleared her throat nervously, and Sebastian noticed that she was unusually pale.

Sebastian shot Elthina a curious look and did as she suggested. He fell heavily into a chair by the fire as he ran a thumb under the wax, breaking it. He unfolded the three page letter, smoothing it out. Before even starting to read the words, he recognized the hand as his father's but noted that it was far sloppier than usual—as though he had been in a terrible hurry to write it. _Or drunk. _He looked at Elthina, then Ryon. Their stony faces gave no hint as to what he was about to read, so the archer decided to just dive into the prose.

_My dearest Sebastian:_

_It is high time that I share some things with you—some things you might already know, some you may never understand, but since I cannot come to you directly, for many reasons, it is my hope that this letter will do._

Sebastian looked up from the note. "Ryon?"

The guard said nothing but looked down at the bronze-haired young man and swallowed thickly. Sebastian furrowed his brows as he returned to reading.

_First and foremost, I am so very sorry for being such a miserable failure as a father to you. It shouldn't have fallen upon your brothers or Granda to teach you things that were my responsibility. It took me years to understand it, but I know that it was my treatment of you that steered you wrong and if I could go back and do it all over, I would do everything differently. __Everything__._

_Second, I am so damned proud of your progress and how you've changed while in Kirkwall. I knew you had it in you, son. I've always thought of you as the ideal balance between your brothers; you have Corbinian's intensity, Gavin's charm, and you're smarter than both of them combined. You are so much like your Granda; sometimes it hurts my heart to think about it._

_Colum Vael was the greatest Prince Starkhaven has ever known, and that leads me to my final request of you, though it pains me to ask._

Sebastian felt tears prick the backs of his eyelids. _Sweet Andraste, no… _The words he had already read were leading to really only one conclusion, and he didn't want to acknowledge it, though he knew he had to. _There is only one reason I'd ever get a letter like this, delivered by Ryon himself. _He shot one more sideways glance at Captain Ryon, whose lower lip now was quivering.

_I know that a coup is being organized, and that it is almost certain we will fall. We enjoyed such peace under my Da, and I took that for granted. I have failed to properly maintain sufficient Royal Guardsmen to defend the family. It is why I sent you to the Chantry. It was my desperate hope that whoever came against us wouldn't find you there. I intended to bring you home once the danger had passed—remember why I sent your armor? It is still my intent for you to come home…but only if that is what you __want__._

_If you're reading this, the Crown is rightfully yours now, Sebastian, but if you are truly happy in your service to the Chantry, then it is not my place to demand that you give that up. I know this news must be a terrible shock, and my request a great deal to ask for, but I hope you will consider your subjects' prosperity and a dead man's last request carefully before you make your final choice._

_If you do choose to come home to Starkhaven, I hope that you will marry yourself as wonderful of a woman as your Gran or your mother, and that the joy of fatherhood finds you again. It should have never been stolen from you before, and I wish that I hadn't interfered the way that I had. In retrospect, I should have let you marry Colleen. You were so happy, and I ruined it for you. I am so sorry…I know these words must ring so hollow now, but I truly regret my part in all of this. I feel it's as much my fault as Rob MacSwain's for her death._

_Never be ashamed of who you love, Sebastian. Never let anyone keep you apart. That is a lesson I learned far too late in my life._

_Either way—whether you remain in service to the Maker or come home to rule Starkhaven—we will be looking down upon you, ever so proud of the man you've become. May the Maker's sweet light shine upon you forever, son. We love you. I love you. I look forward to the day when we can be together again at the Maker's side. Farewell, Sebastian._

_-Father_

Sebastian dropped the letter, the pages floating to the floor, and started shaking violently as tears streamed down his cheeks. "Is it true, Ryon," he whispered as he stared at the handwritten pages on the Grand Cleric's carpet.

Captain Ryon knelt beside Sebastian's chair, eyes shining. "Aye," he choked as the tears finally spilled over. "It was your father's strict order to bring this to you no matter what, even though it meant I had to leave your family to such a dreadful fate."

Sebastian sat, eerily quiet for several moments. He frowned and Ryon saw his jaw set. "Who did this?"

Ryon had never considered Sebastian to possess much of his father's traits other than his looks, but in that moment—when Sebastian's blue eyes were as hard as Aidan's—the grizzled captain knew that this young man had the makings of a capable ruler. He stood again, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder. _I know who is behind all of it…but I have no __proof__ right now. Best not to set the lad on a goose chase before the truth is clear._

"I'm not sure, mercenaries, to be certain, but I don't know the name of the group. And I'm not certain who would have hired them. My orders were to leave as soon as they broke into the palace. I learned halfway here that the only survivor is your cousin Goran. He's been placed on the throne for now."

"_Goran_?" Sebastian spat. "He's not exactly cut out for being a ruler."

"My sentiments exactly. Whoever ordered the hit wanted a puppet on the throne, and they certainly got it," Ryon growled.

Sebastian didn't hesitate, rising sharply to his feet. "I must go back with you. I'll get my things. We can be on the road within the hour."

"No," Ryon said softly, placing a hand on Sebastian's chest to stop him.

Sebastian backed away from the Captain's touch, folding his arms. "What? You can't be serious?" His glare could have pierced holes in Ryon's armor.

_As impetuous as ever. Some things never change. _"No, Sebastian," Ryon reiterated, more firmly this time. "It is far, _far_ too dangerous right now. Not until I know the name of the company that did this, the person who hired them, and can have them all eliminated. You must stay here; nobody knows you've survived, or that you're in Kirkwall. You are the last of your line…Prince Vael." He got on bended knee in front of the still-seething young man.

_Ryon's never called me that before, and he's definitely never knelt before me…Maker, this is really real, isn't it? Holy Maker, how could You let this happen? My family members were good, devout souls. Surely I should honor them by striking down these murderers and claiming my…_

"Are you truly certain that you wish to return to Starkhaven, Sebastian? Forswearing your vows is not a task that's easily undone," Elthina chided, breaking the young man's thoughts.

Sebastian frowned at Elthina's words. _And now __she's__ trying to talk me out of this as well. _"I—I'm not…I didn't mean to…I don't _know_." He stammered and chewed at his thumbnail, an old nervous habit. _But the letter—Father's words—he wants me to be happy. I __am__ happy here…for the most part. Of course, I do miss my homeland. I miss my mother…_ He realized that even if he went back to Starkhaven, he'd never see his family again. Sebastian sank to his knees as he desperately tried to picture his brothers' faces when they surprised him in Val Royeaux…but couldn't. All he had were filmy memories, obscured by the haze that years of too much drink had brought, and in that moment, life in Starkhaven had never seemed less real. Sebastian buried his face in his hands and started to weep pitifully.

Ryon crouched down, wrapping an arm around Sebastian's shoulder. "Your father and I were here, in Kirkwall, not all that long ago," he whispered in the Prince's ear. "We came here to speak with the Viscount—certainly something that could've been done by letter—because he wanted to talk to you. But when he saw you so happy, so relaxed…he didn't want to upset you, so we left. All he ever wanted was for you to find peace, Sebastian, even if that meant he couldn't speak to you again for fear of bringing back all that old anger."

Reality was beginning to set in—Sebastian was all alone, the exiled son of a dead Prince, and he had a choice staring him in the face that nobody should _ever_ have to make. "What do you think I should do, Ryon," Sebastian mumbled.

"Were I you, I'd march right into the palace and take your rightful throne. After I eliminate the outstanding threat, of course."

Sebastian gave Ryon a stern look. "Then go…eliminate them," he hissed, before wiping his eyes and standing up. "I need to collect my thoughts. Grand Cleric…Ryon…I'll be outside should you need me." He turned and exited Elthina's office as quickly as he could.

Ryon watched Sebastian leave, resisting the urge to follow him. He turned back to Elthina. "I…I should go. I need to find accommodations for the night," he said sorrowfully.

Elthina, who had gathered up the pages of Aidan's letter, handed them to Ryon. "We have extra beds, Captain," she said smoothly, "And I think I have just the place for your horse. I want you to stay close-I'm sure Sebastian will have more questions shortly, and it is possible you are being pursued by those responsible for the Vaels' deaths. The Chantry is a safe haven."

Ryon smiled at this kindness and looked at the paper in his hands. "Thank you, Grand Cleric," he said crisply, giving the old woman a deep bow. "I can pay for my lodging—"

"Hush, Ryon. I'll have none of it. Let's get you a room so you can at least get a hot bath before supper," Elthina said, leading Ryon out of her office.

It didn't take long to get Ryon set up with a room, fresh linens, and a steaming copper tub of water to soothe his aching muscles. As Ryon pulled on the single set of plain clothes he had packed, there was a knock at the door. He silently pulled his sword from its sheath and leaned against the wood, listening briefly before responding.

"Who's there?" Ryon adjusted his grip on the sword.

There was a light chuckle. "It IS you. The rumors were true," came a familiar masculine voice. Ryon smiled to himself and relaxed as he opened the door. A man in black leathers, with shoulder-length brown hair and wide, gray-green eyes, stood on the other side, smirking.

"Richard. So glad to see you well, old friend." Ryon stood back and gestured for Richard to enter.

"I wish I were as happy to see you, to be honest. I can't imagine the Captain of the Royal Guard making a solo visit is exactly a positive sign," the Seeker muttered as he ran a hand through his wavy locks, while Ryon closed the door. Richard paused, taking a sharp breath as he examined Ryon's still-weary face. "Something's happened. Three nights ago, I'm guessing."

Ryon took a step back, stunned. "Aye. But how—"

"There was a group of mercenaries that tried to get into the Chantry. I nearly fell, but just in the nick—anyway, the strike failed. It was such a sudden, sizeable strike that I just knew something must be happening in Starkhaven, so out with it," Richard said, leaning against the wardrobe and folding his muscular arms.

Ryon sheathed his sword and sat on the bed, nodding lightly all the while. Folding his hands in his lap, the captain hunched over and let out a huge breath before starting to speak. "They're all dead. Aside from Goran, Sebastian's the only living Vael."

Richard was silent for a long time, chewing at his lower lip before clearing his throat. "I see. Does he know?"

"Aye. Already told him," Ryon whispered, voice cracking.

Richard approached the bed and sat beside the Captain, his wide eyes showing a slight hint of nervousness. "How did he react?"

_Why does Richard look nervous? _"Not like I'd expected. He cried, yes, but…"

Richard interrupted. "He didn't fly off the handle? The old Sebastian would've lost his temper, am I right?"

Ryon glanced at the Seeker briefly and nodded. "Aye. He was upset, sure, but who wouldn't be? But it seemed…like he was _ready_ to shoulder this burden, to face it like a man."

Richard let out a small sigh of relief that Ryon didn't seem to notice. "I'm telling you, Ryon, he really _has_ changed. It's not an act anymore, like it was in Val Royeaux…in Denerim. I think he'll make a fine ruler."

"If that's what he chooses," Ryon said. "Aidan said Sebastian doesn't have to take the throne if he doesn't want it. And the boy is as torn as can be over the decision." He rose and grabbed the dead man's letter from the rickety wooden desk and held it out for Richard.

The Seeker took and read through the letter quickly, not wanting to linger on words meant for a loved son's eyes. "Who is in power now?" Richard asked hesitantly, acutely aware that the threat to Sebastian's safety hinged on the answer.

Ryon scowled. "Goran Vael. Alec's boy."

Richard failed to hide his shock. "_HIM_? Isn't he—"

Ryon put a finger to his lips, shushing the Seeker. He lowered his voice as he responded, "Yes. It's clear he's only a puppet. For Starkhaven to remain stable, we must get a capable ruler on the throne as soon as possible."

"Sebastian," Richard said without hesitation.

Ryon nodded. "Sebastian."

"He won't go if he's ordered to, or if he feels at all pressured into it," Richard cautioned. _I know I certainly wouldn't._

Ryon sat beside the Seeker again, carefully choosing his words. "I know…that's why I need you to gently steer him towards the idea. Very carefully. It may be a while before I can determine the true nature of the threat, so you have some time to work with. You know the boy—_man_—better than anyone else, Richard. I trust you know how to go about persuading him?"

"I'm sure I can come up with something," Richard replied with a smirk before setting his brows in concern. "But what of you? Words cannot express how sorry I am for your loss. I know you were close to the Vaels…much closer than I ever was."

Ryon's shoulders sagged and his voice softened, picking up a slight waver as sadness and resignation finally broke the veteran soldier. "I can't return to Starkhaven. Not yet. My family has taken shelter with my brother in Cumberland. I'll do what I can from there until I feel it's safe enough to go back."

"Good idea. I'll…let you have a few moments to yourself. We shall continue discussing this over our meal. Supper's in about twenty minutes. The Sisters are preparing a stew. I'll see you in a bit." Richard smiled reassuringly as he got up and left smoothly, the door's hardware making a soft _clink_ as it shut.

Ryon buried his face in his hands as he realized that it might be much more difficult to get Sebastian Vael to take the Crown than he originally estimated. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he finally allowed himself to acknowledge the deaths of his friends and fear for the future. _Who would rule, if not a Vael? We scarcely have any old nobility left. I'm certainly not going to nominate any of the 'new men' to step up, considering most seem to have been involved in the plot, and I'm too damned old to do it myself. What a mess. What a fine mess._

**_0-0-0-0-0_**

**_Meanwhile, in Starkhaven…_**

Eight towering funeral pyres stood in the center of the courtyard in front of Starkhaven's Royal Palace, a royal standard tacked onto the base of each one. From the ground, all the shell-shocked citizens could see were the brightly colored formal clothes that the Vaels had been dressed in. None could see their faces; none could know that these eight bodies were not actually those of the deposed royals. Johane Harimann had ordered eight of the slain Royal Guardsmen to be dressed and placed atop the pyres in the Vaels' stead, while their actual corpses were no doubt near the Waking Sea by now, hastily dumped in the Minanter after the slaughter. The people had demanded the right to pay their last respects to the Prince and his family, and Johane wasn't about to make any unpopular decisions at this critical time.

The wearied blood mage took a sip of her wine as she watched the funeral from what was Aidan Vael's study. The last three days had been draining; Goran Vael was proving to be difficult to mold, and the newly-minted Lord Stuart challenged Johane's authority at every turn. It seemed as though everything she told the new Prince of Starkhaven was immediately nixed by the brash noble. _I thought we could work together, but if he continues to stand in my way, I fear I will have to eliminate him as well. I've come too far to bow down to a single man now._

There was no knock at the door before Stuart burst in. "Surely you don't mean to put the ashes of commoners in the Vael Tomb?" He hissed as he slammed the door behind him. "Do you want the Maker to turn his back on us now? Stop this sacrilege!"

Johane slammed her wine cup onto the old oak desk, the burgundy liquid inside splashing out of the pewter and onto the wood. She charged towards Lord Stuart, gray eyes flashing with anger. "It's not like we can go fetch the real bodies, now can we? The people demanded this circus, what was I supposed to do?"

Stuart stepped back at her words and gave the mage a suspicious glare. "_I_? Why is it always _your_ decision, Johane? You're not the ruler of Starkhaven."

Johane stomped back to her wine cup, draining what was left with a single gulp. "Neither. Are. You, Lord Stuart! I made you, or did you forget already?" She arched a thin eyebrow, daring the Lord to argue this particular fact.

Stuart crossed the room and stood face to face with Johane, nostrils flaring as he readied himself to slap the woman. "Are you threatening me?"

Johane didn't flinch. "I don't know…am I?" She called up just enough mana to summon a very mild electrical shock. She discreetly flung it at the Lord, who stumbled backward.

"Fine. Forget I said anything," Stuart muttered as he rubbed his chest to soothe away the sting of Johane's magic. "But I'll be damned if I go down with you if the people learn of your trickery. I do not agree with this." He left the room as he entered—with a great amount of fuss.

Johane rolled her eyes as she resumed watching the spectacle in the courtyard. A group of men were playing a song on their bagpipes, one that Johane remembered from funerals she attended as a girl. Slowly but steadily, the citizens started to sing the words and the chorus of mourners eventually filled the air with the mournful tune. As the song ended, the Grand Cleric held her torch to the base of Aidan Vael's pyre. Once it took hold, she moved out from the center, lighting each pile in turn until all eight were ablaze. Once the pyres were burning, the Grand Cleric approached the sobbing Goran Vael and put a friendly arm around his shoulder.

_'_I'll have to break that boy, I see,_' _Johane thought as she left the window and sat down to draft some letters. _Can't have an emotional wreck try to keep this city-state from plunging into utter chaos. Surely some of that Vael hard-headedness flows in his veins? So much to do…and I'm not sure how much I can afford to let Goran's wishes interfere with what must be done._

**_0-0-0-0-0_**

**_Kirkwall Chantry, later that night…_**

Kirkwall evenings in late Solace were miserably humid, but on this particular evening the air held a crispness that promised a break in the late summer heat. As the moon rose ever-higher in the dusky sky, Captain Ryon MacAllister found he was glad to have grabbed a lantern on his way out into the Chantry gardens. In the far corner stood a stout oak, its gnarled limbs speaking volumes about the years it had bore witness to. Ryon could see a leg, covered by a gold-trimmed white greave, sticking out from the other side of the massive trunk. He approached, sitting on the ground with his back against the rough bark.

"Richard told me you were still out here. We missed you at supper," he whispered to Sebastian. "Are you alright? Is there anything I can do to help, Your Highness?"

There was a long silence, only broken by the sound of dragonbone armor shifting against bark. "Please…_please_ don't call me that, Ryon," Sebastian muttered, followed by a loud sniffle. _Nothing I've ever done has made me worthy of that title. Especially not now, not when my family lies dead and I'm still here, exiled because of selfish stupidity. There's nothing "high" about escaping your true fate. I belong with them._

Ryon swallowed hard. Though he and the Prince had butted heads many times over the years, the Captain considered Sebastian as much a member of his family as any of the other Vaels. Ryon could only imagine the sense of utter devastation he was feeling right now. He spoke calmly, choosing his words with care. "Sebastian, whether you like it or not, you are the heir to Starkhaven's throne. I know you probably feel guilty about being alive, but trust me when I say your father kept you out of Starkhaven for just this reason. I read his letter, but I've known for years that he sent you away not only to protect you, not just to punish you…but to make sure that there would be a Vael to rule fair Starkhaven when…well…"

Sebastian had remained completely still as Ryon spoke, but when the Captain hesitated, there was a sharp scrape of armor on wood. "What?_When_ what?" Sebastian hissed in a demanding tone.

Ryon hesitated, but knew his orders. He flashed back to the night Aidan Vael had handed him the letter; the words haunted him still. _"Captain, I command you…should it become apparent that my life will be forfeit…ride with all due haste to Kirkwall. Deliver this message…and answer any questions Sebastian may ask."_

The grizzled man drew a deep breath and held it for a moment before exhaling in an exaggerated puff. "How much do you know about Colleen MacDougal's past, Sebastian? What did she tell you?" Ryon fidgeted, picking up a small twig and running it under his dirty thumbnail.

There was a _clunk _as Sebastian settled back against the tree. A brief image of his raven-haired lass popped into his head, and it was like losing her all over again. "What _could_ she tell me? All she knew was her life in the Chantry before Gran took her into the household."

Ryon frowned and cleared his throat. "What I'm about to tell you, Sebastian, may be quite difficult to take. I only hope that someday you will understand why your father went to such lengths to keep all this under wraps."

_Great. Every time I start to think I'm moving on, something else always brings her right back to the forefront. _"It's times like this when I really miss drinking," Sebastian whispered to himself.

A silver flask appeared at his side, engraved with the Captain's initials. The younger man gave a light snort as he grabbed the vessel and took a long pull. Much to his dismay, Sebastian found the liquid inside was merely water. "This is the sorriest scotch I've ever had," he said sarcastically, Starkhaven brogue particularly thick over the r's.

Ryon couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "Sorry, Sebastian. They made me give up all my alcohol when I brought my things into the Chantry. Maybe I can sneak you out of here and we can get a proper ale to toast your family."

Sebastian sighed as he reluctantly handed the flask back to the Captain. "It's alright, Ryon, really. I made a vow to the Maker to give up drinking. I shouldn't be so quick to reach for the bottle when times get tough. I've had more than enough time to think about my actions and learn to handle myself better."

Ryon smiled at the Prince's admission, at realizing while there was no doubting the Vael blood in Sebastian's veins, the exile had done some good after all. _He'll need that ability to control his impulsivity and temper. _"Fair enough. Let's see, where to begin? Ah, yes. Colleen's parents. We discovered that she was the daughter of a Kirkwall noble."

Sebastian gasped. "She was noble-blooded?" He paused for a while, and Ryon heard a very faint sob. "I _could_ have married her," he choked out bitterly.

Ryon cringed at the sharp tone Sebastian's voice had taken. He knew it well; after all, Aidan Vael's voice often had the very same edge right before he lost his temper. _Oh no…no, no, no. I should have eased into it more slowly. Damn. _"Now before you get angry, hear me out," he blurted. "We didn't know. Not until after…well, it was far too late. But we knew it was only a matter of time before her noble father found out and demanded answers, so…your father sent you away. You know, it's funny—"

"Funny how, exactly? I'm not really laughing over here," Sebastian snarled.

Ryon frowned. "I'm sorry, sorry…it's just that for all the threats made to send you to the Chantry for your behavior, that's not why you were sent there. You were sent because of the threat Colleen's father posed to not only your safety, but the safety of your father as well. Renly Harimann was a very powerful man."

At last, the Prince came out from behind the tree, crawling on his knees and glaring at Ryon. "Harimann? Lord Harimann was Colleen's father? Why would he come after us? He's a friend of our family."

"Was. He _was_ a friend of the family, but now he's dead," Ryon muttered, trailing off.

Sebastian sat back on his heels, briefly lost in thought. "That's right, I remember hearing about that." He looked down at the ground as he considered the timing of Harimann's death. "Did Father…"

"Mercenaries. Yes." Ryon said, cutting him off.

Sebastian scrunched his sharp features into a confused scowl. "So if he's dead, who ordered the strike against the family?"

"I'm not sure. I don't want to speculate, not yet," Ryon fibbed. _Aidan, I know you told me to disclose everything, but I can't on this. Not yet. If I tell him, I can't trust him to not to lose his mind and march right over to the Harimann Estate…and Johane Harimann is far too powerful to take on alone. _

"You're going back right away to find out?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Ryon continued to fiddle with the twig in his hands. "I'm going to Cumberland. I sent my family there for safety, along with Gavin's lover, Bryan. From there I can assess the situation in Starkhaven. Once I know that the person behind everything has been eliminated, I'll come back for you."

Sebastian sat back on the grass, back against the tree, next to Ryon. "Good, good. How long do you expect that will take?"

Ryon shrugged. "I have some gut feelings about who's responsible. If I'm right, I'll be back in a couple of weeks."

"And if you're not?" Sebastian's jaw set.

Ryon dismissed Sebastian's concern. "Let's not think about that right now. You've got enough on your mind. Come on, let's go inside. The air smells of rain and lightning."

Ryon got up and offered a hand to Sebastian, pulling the auburn-haired Brother to his feet. As they walked through the moonlit garden towards the rear door of the Chantry, the rhythmic clink of Sebastian's scale-mail tunic broke Ryon's thoughts. "So…why did you put on your armor? You were wearing your vestments earlier," the captain said, clearing his throat.

Flustered, Sebastian spluttered as he started to respond. "I…I felt like I should be more…_protected_ now. I don't think I'll be wearing my robes anymore, not unless the Grand Cleric requires me to do so."

Ryon scanned the area for danger, an automatic action from years of military service. "I think that's a very good idea. But you really have nothing to fear. Richard will still watch over you, as he always has."

Sebastian kicked a golf-ball sized stone off the finely-graveled path. "Not if I return to Starkhaven. His duty is to the Divine, not the Crown."

"Good point. Perhaps I can lure him away from the Seekers of Truth. I'm no longer a young man, Sebastian. I fear I would not be able to serve you as well as I served your Da and Granda. Richard would be my first choice to protect you."

Sebastian paused at the door to the Chantry, gloved hand on rough oak, and took in a deep breath. "Do you really think I'm fit, Ryon? Answer honestly. I was a terrible son, and I haven't always been the best initiate. I wasn't brought up to wear the crown, either. What I know of ruling only consists of the little bits and pieces I observed from Granda. From what I understand, there's virtually nobody left that could teach me the finer points of ruling, as I would need."

"Of course you're fit, Sebastian, you're a _Vael_," Ryon hissed without hesitation as he leaned in close. "You were born to rule. You're smart and charming, two key traits that a good ruler needs to possess. And if you absorbed anything you saw of what your Granda did as Prince…well, you're further ahead than anybody else who would rule in your place. I'll help you, as will your mother's family in Ansburg. You'll make an excellent Prince. Trust me." He smiled at the hesitant young man, hoping that it would mask his own apprehension. _Please don't turn your back on Starkhaven, Sebastian. We need you._

Sebastian looked at Ryon, scanning his face for any tells. Seeing none, he gave the Captain a half-hearted smile and pushed the door to the Kirkwall Chantry open. The pair walked in silence up the flights of stairs to the rooms set aside for the only male Brother and his guards.

"Good night, Sebastian. I hope you're able to sleep," Ryon muttered as he entered his room.

"You too," came the whispered reply just as Ryon's door clicked shut, but Sebastian knew that he would spend the entire night praying for the souls of his family and guidance from the Maker.

* * *

_A/N: FINALLY. Sorry it took so long to get this done and uploaded. Life has been very interesting these past few months. Some good, some bad, but all will be right eventually. Anyway, here's the first real chapter. It may be a bit before the next update, but that's because I'm doing some housekeeping and future planning for the series to make sure all the stories mesh together. I hope you enjoy this!_


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